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36. Police
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2025-08-14 23:52:55
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His Beauty Her Beast 38. Argument With Dad
Rowan's POVThe clang of the cell door shutting behind Elena and Natalie still rang in my ears, like a damn iron bell mocking me. Watching her pace in that lockup—head high, fire burning through her even in the mess she’d landed herself in—made my jaw tighten.I slipped out into the corridor, loosening the collar of my shirt, because suddenly the whole place felt suffocating. The air smelt of stale sweat, old paper, and coffee that had been sitting on the burner since the last century. Charming atmosphere.My phone was already in my hand before I even thought it through. One dial. My lawyer picked up after three rings, his voice groggy. “Mr Blackwood?”“I need you,” I said curtly, walking toward the empty bench in the hallway. “Two women, both arrested for assault at The Rusty Barrel downtown. I need bail papers ready.”He was quiet for a beat, probably scrambling upright in bed. “Sir, the court is closed. It’s past midnight.”“I don’t give a damn what time it is,” I snapped. My templ
His Beauty Her Beast 37. Lock Up
Elena's POVThe lockup smelt like damp walls, disinfectant, and bad decisions. The kind of place where echoes bounce too loudly and time drags too slowly. The steel bench under me was cold against my thighs, the bars in front of me a reminder that somehow my “date night” with Damon had morphed into jail night with Natalie. Not exactly the kind of romantic twist I was hoping for.I leaned back, crossing my arms tightly against my chest, trying to ignore the sting of the bandage tugging at the cut on my arm. My knuckles throbbed faintly too, bruises blooming across my skin like badges of honour. Fine. Whatever. I could handle pain. What I couldn’t handle was the sheer stupidity of how tonight spiralled.First: sleazy men who thought groping women was some kind of sport. And second—most irritating of all—Rowan, who apparently had nothing better to do than play shadow and saviour, trailing me like some broody bloodhound who couldn’t mind his own damn business.I kicked the bench leg just
His Beauty Her Beast 36. Police
Rowan's POVThe fluorescent lights above me hummed like they were personally trying to make my headache worse. My head throbbed in a slow, steady rhythm — like a very bad drummer had moved in behind my eyes and refused to leave. The faint smell of disinfectant mixed with something sterile and metallic lingered in the air, and the paper sheet beneath me kept making that shh-shh sound every time I shifted.Hospitals. My least favourite place.Well… usually.Right now, I was starting to think they weren’t so bad — not with Elena standing there, arms crossed, glaring at me like I’d just committed treason. Which, apparently, in her eyes, I had.God, she was cute when she was mad.“So you’re telling me”, she said, voice dripping with disbelief, “that you just happened to be passing by?”I managed a groan that was half from the pain and half from trying to stop myself from grinning too much. “Exactly.”Her eyes narrowed, and I swear, I could see her mentally sharpening a knife. I almost laug
His Beauty Her Beast 35. You're Insufferable
Elena's POVNatalie was halfway through explaining something ridiculous about the guy she’d been flirting with when I heard it.The low, greasy voices from the table behind us. The laughter. The words.“Oh, I’d let her sit on my lap.”“Bet she’s a screamer.”“Look at the legs on that one—heels like that, she’s asking for it.”I felt my jaw tighten. I didn’t turn around. I’d dealt with creeps before, and ignoring them was usually the fastest way to make them bored.Natalie’s voice dropped. “They’re talking about us.”“I know,” I said, my tone sharp enough to cut glass. “Let’s go.”She nodded, her own smile gone, and we grabbed our bags. We didn’t bother finishing our drinks—we just stood and started toward the door.And then—A hand.Firm. Grabbing my ass.It was instinct.I spun on my heel so fast the guy didn’t have time to register what was happening before my knee came up—hard—right between his legs.He made a strangled noise, doubling over like someone had just unplugged him from
His Beauty Her Beast 34. Bar Fight
Rowan's POVI leaned against the side of my car, arms crossed, the cool metal biting into my back as I stared at the glowing neon sign of the bar.Why the hell would Volkov leave her here?Out of all places. A bar and at night.Okay, not technically alone—she had him with her—but that wasn’t the point. And he wasn't here anymore. He had that look about him, like a guy who bought girl-scout cookies out of guilt and thought tipping 5% was “generous”. Not exactly bodyguard material.I exhaled through my nose, eyes narrowing at the door.What was happening in there right now? Was she laughing at something? Did someone put his hand on hers? Was she doing that soft smile she used when she pretended she wasn’t amused?God.I shouldn’t care. I didn’t care.This was just… recon. Yes. Strategic observation.I checked my watch. She’d been inside for ten minutes. What could possibly be taking that long? Drinks, maybe. Or… what if she was meeting someone? Someone Volkov wanted her to talk to? Some
His Beauty Her Beast 33. Am I Being Paranoid?
Elena's POVThe moment the words left his mouth—“Sweetheart, I think you’re mistaken. I never sent you any flowers.” —it was like someone had pulled a rug out from under me.A cold rush of blood ran through my veins so fast I almost felt dizzy. For a moment, the sound of clinking glasses and murmured conversations in the restaurant faded, replaced by the deafening thud of my own heartbeat.I blinked at him, searching his face for even the slightest sign that he might be lying. But his expression was deadly serious, the lightness from before completely gone. Damon wasn’t teasing, wasn’t being coy. He genuinely had no idea what I was talking about.Which meant…My gut twisted. My instincts, the ones I’d been brushing off for days, screamed at me that I was right all along. The feeling I’d been having—that crawling sensation on the back of my neck when I walked home, the flicker of a shadow in my periphery, the sound of footsteps when I knew I was alone—it wasn’t paranoia.Someone was wat
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